


C'est Fantastique

by justbygrace



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, NSFW, porn with a tiny bit of plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 21:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2040432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justbygrace/pseuds/justbygrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I have no excuse for this except alcohol and my general irritation over my writing recently. I also included as many generic smut phrases as I could.<br/>(Inspiration from one too many times of hearing 'Drunk on a Plane' by Dierks Bentley.)</p><p>This is so far outside of what I usually write, I can't even tell you. </p><p>Enjoy! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	C'est Fantastique

This was supposed to be his honeymoon. Yesterday he was supposed to have married Reinette Poisson. And today he was supposed to be on his way to Spain for a restful vacation in the tropics. Actually, he was still on his way to Spain, but that's because the train and the hotel and damn mini-bar was pre-ordered and the concierge was very clear "So sorry sir, no refunds!" Besides, he figured the world owed him one.

He had a first class seat on the train from Paris to Barcelona and the beginnings of a very good buzz working its way into his toes. The train was supposed to be full (and there went his ideas of propping Reinette's picture on the seat opposite) and he was waiting to see which of the over-paid fat businessmen with a bad toupee was slated to sit across from him. He ignored the bit where he was also an over-paid businessman except without the bad toupee. 

The woman who stopped next to his seat and went up on tiptoes to try to finagle an oversized duffle into the overhead compartment was neither fat nor did she have a bad toupee. What she had were gorgeous breasts which were peeking at him over the edges of her zip-up purple hoodie and blonde hair which was just begging for him to dig his fingers in. He was on his feet and stretched up behind her to help maneuver her suitcase in place before he could remember deciding to do so.

He stayed standing when she sat just to sneak a glance down her shirt and when he finally seated himself across the table from her, the look she gave him was knowing. If he hadn't had several glasses of whiskey burning through his veins he would have blushed and been a gentleman for the rest of the flight. Instead he gave her a suggestive wink and leaned back with all debonair polish that Reinette told him he didn't have when she threw the ring in his face.

She pulled out a magazine, but there was a smile playing at the corner of her lips. He stretched out his legs and let them fall open before engaging her in conversation, very solicitously he thought. She was headed to Toulouse for a conference for her company (Vitex Industries) and spoke with a South London accent, same as him. She offered her apologies on his broken wedding but there was a hint of something that made him think she wasn't as sorry as she could have been. 

As the train pulled out of the station he felt her foot brush against his calf. He froze for a half-second and then smirked and continued in his comments about his favorite cafes in Paris. Her foot - devoid of her shoe - continued to explore his leg, sliding over his trousers and stopping at the top of his thigh. His eyes shot to hers and he discovered her lips were parted, an invitation in her gaze. Her foot nudged his crotch and he relaxed further in his seat, allowing her access.

A quick glance around the compartment assured him that the other passengers appeared to be asleep and so he lowered his hands to her foot, stroking her instep and smoothing his hands over the top. She was wearing nylons, silk he would guess - and after three years of footing Reinette's shopping bill, he ought to know - and he gently manipulated each of her toes, kneading them before wrapping a hand around her ankle and squeezing, pressing her foot further into his crotch under the guise of massaging her ankle.

There was a knowing smile on her face as she pressed her foot more firmly against him, rubbing against his growing erection. He widened his legs, pressing her foot harder into himself, and thinking he'd been more deprived than he'd realized if this was all it took to get him hard. Her voice interrupted his growing haze, asking if perhaps he wanted to get another drink. The thought of moving through the aisle with an obvious hard-on was not something he was thrilled about, but there was a glint in her eye that had him on his feet and following her towards the dining car in an instant.

She stopped outside of the vacant loo in the adjoining car, stepping inside with a "I think this will do" and reaching behind him to shut the door. The room was small with only a toilet and a small sink and if he breathed too deeply he would bump into her. He stared at her, hardly believing that she was really initiating this, but she smiled, completely relaxed. She mentioned that she had noticed his attention to her and that massaging her foot had caused him to get hard and she was quite interested in fucking him here and now, if he wanted? If he wanted? His erection, flagging slightly from the walk and the confusion, jumped back to attention.

He still hesitated, the whiskey was beginning to recede from his body and he wondered if this was really happening to him. She did not hesitate, her hands immediately going to his trousers, unzipping them, and freeing him from his confines. At the first touch of her soft hands to his cock, he lost his reluctancy and grasped her arse, pulling her flush against him. He told her both with his words and with the way that his hands were squeezing her through her skirt that he was very, very interested.

She grinned, her tongue between her teeth as she fondled his cock and the sight had him pressing her against the door. He caught her lips with his own, grinding against her belly as he devoured her mouth. She gave as good as he was giving her, her hand never ceasing its relentless rhythm on his cock even as she stroked her tongue against his. With one hand he lowered the zip of her jacket, delighted when it revealed bare skin to his hungry gaze, her breasts hidden from his sight only by a thin layer of black lace. 

Moving a hand to her crotch, he pressed her thin yoga pants upwards and the obvious slipperiness he felt there caused him to harden further. She released him briefly to undo the buttons on his jacket and shirt and he had never hated the sheer amount of layers he wore more. He kicked off his trousers and vest and watched in appreciation as she pushed down her trousers and underpants in one go. 

Freeing her breasts was an honor he wanted and he pushed her hand away from the clasp of her bra, preferring to release them slowly, licking and sucking his way down the mounds until he reached the hardened tips. He sucked hard on the left while fondling the right, pinching and twisting while mimicking the movement with his tongue and the grazing of his teeth, before treating the other breast to the same ministrations. Her hands were in his hair and the sounds that were coming out of her mouth were exquisite, curses and prayers and breathy pants. 

When her panting began to turn to low moans he released her breasts reluctantly, his hands smoothing over her smooth belly and around her thighs to slide through her folds. She whimpered, her own hands reaching out to grasp his cock, twisting down and sliding up, her finger swiping expertly over the tip. He removed his hand from her and couldn't resist sliding it into his mouth, the taste of her juices exploding over his tongue. Hardly had he removed his fingers than she was pressing her lips to his, her tongue slipping immediately into his, sucking the last drops of herself. 

His mind shook with amazement at her actions and before he could think, he had spun her, spreading her arse cheeks with one hand and sliding his cock into the crevice there. He held her tight against him, cupping her mound with his right hand, allowing his fingers to slide through her curls and then lower to find her delicate bud, rubbing tight circles around it. She cried out, her hips jerking backwards against his. He knew he was very close with the way they were situated, but he had a duty to her first.

He shifted their positions once more, helping her to sit on the rim of the sink so that she was leaning back against the mirror with her hips near the very edge. Lifting one of her legs onto his shoulder, he encouraged her to spread the other one so that by sitting on the lid of the toilet, he was nose level to her most private area. She blushed red and made to cover herself, but he gently moved her hands, pressing a kiss to her curls and assuring her that he had never seen a more perfect sight. 

He had been with his fair share of woman and when he told her that she was beautiful he meant every word. Caressing the tops of her thighs, he inhaled her aroma, the smell making him impossibly harder. She whimpered as he slowly licked her labia, sucking on her inner lips, savoring the burst of flavor in his mouth. He swirled his tongue around her and then pressed into her, lapping at the liquid he found there, the cries of rapture she was making spurring him on. With one finger he exposed her clitoris and he licked a line up to it, twirling his tongue around it several times before pulling into his mouth and sucking hard. She swore long and explicitly and he smiled, swirling his tongue around her clit and then down to press into her. 

Her fingers were twisted through his hair, pulling slightly in time to her cries. He increased his efforts, rhythmically moving between her clit and her inner lips, pausing to dip inside of her and savor her juices. Her hips were moving in time to his ministrations when he suddenly inserted a finger into her, twisting it around and stroking her. She gave a sharp tug to his hair and he added another finger, spreading her open. He curled his fingers inside of her, exploring her inner walls to find her engorged sensitive spot. She gave a scream that was surely heard the whole length of the train and he knew he had found what he was searching for. 

He continued to suck on her clit in time to thrusting his finger into her, making sure to hit her sweet spot every time. Her cries grew louder and louder, echoing around the tiny compartment and then with a shudder and a last long moan, his fingers flooded with her juices. He stood up, unable to resist licking her taste of his fingers - he was certain he would never get enough of it - before pressing his lips to her. She quickly responded, her fingers digging into his shoulders as their tongues dueled for dominance. At length she pulled back, still breathing hard even as she reached out to circle her fingers around his cock, stroking once up and down.

With a gasp he pulled back, knowing he'd come in a second if she continued and he didn't want that and, by the looks of things, neither did she. Fumbling for where his trousers were, he pulled a condom out of the pocket and ripped it open. She held her hand out, offering to put it on, but he shook his head, no way would he last through all that. She smiled, reclining back against the mirror and watching him slide the condom over his shaft. 

He stepped forward, intent on lifting her arms onto his shoulders, but she stopped him. With a smile she pushed him lightly until he sat down on the toilet. Then she hopped off the toilet and straddled his legs. He swore as she slid down on him, certain he wasn't going to last another second. Before she could move, he pressed a hand to her shoulder, holding her still until he could will back the rising tide. When he felt that he had a semblance of control, he raised his head and smiled.

She began to move, her thighs tightening around him as she rose up and releasing as she sank back down. He dropped his hands to her waist, careful to let her set the pace, but to be there for support. It took only a few smooth thrusts before she started to lose control, her thrusts growing wilder as she worked for release. He could feel his own orgasm swiftly growing in momentum and so he moved his thumb back to her clit, rubbing and pressing. 

His groans joined her cries as they rose higher, her movements becoming frenzied, her breasts dancing provocatively there in front of him. It was the most glorious thing he had ever been a part of. With his grip around her waist, he encouraged her to twist slightly on the downstroke and the extra stimulation was precisely what they both needed. He could feel her inner walls fluttering around him as his orgasm surging through him. She joined him as he spurted deep within her, her orgasm milking the last vestiges out of him. 

They stayed where they were for a long moment, both of them breathing heavily. He recovered first, unable to resist stroking her breasts where they dangled before him. She moved her head to kiss him, languidly as if they were old lovers on Sunday morning, not strangers in a cramped train compartment. After a moment she pulled back and he gingerly helped her to lift off of him. 

He ran a cloth under the faucet and handed it to her to clean the sticky mess off of her thighs as he searched their strewn belongings for his clothes. Before they could say anything a knock sounded at the door and a woman's voice enquired if they were quite done. His cheeks flamed with embarrassment but she just called out a polite "not just yet" before turning back to him with a satisfied smirk.

They dressed amidst polite murmurs of two people trying to locate clothing and put them on in a small space. After they were presentable she turned to him, smoothing the wrinkles out of his suit jacket and straightening his tie before going up on tiptoes and kissing his cheek. Then she was pulling open the door and stepping proudly out the door. There were a few people nearby and some shook their heads, but most grinned and a one or two wolf-whistled. 

They had just gained their seats when the announcement for Toulouse sounded and the train began to slow. He could hardly believe that the time had flown by so quickly but he was certain a train ride had never been more enjoyable. She smiled when he helped her retrieve her luggage and before she turned away she pressed a quick kiss to her lips. He stood staring after her, wondering how he had been so lucky as to sit across from such a gorgeous and talented woman.

As the doors closed behind her, he sank down in his seat. There on the table was a note and he picked it up, unfolding it and reading the contents. It was addressed to "Dear Stranger" and signed "Bad Wolf" and it was fairly generic, something about a rough day and a recent bad break-up and needing to get some experience. He shook his head, surprised that he wasn't more upset that seducing a stranger had apparently been her plan the whole time. It was only when he reached the end that he began to smile, a hurriedly scrawled "I'm so glad I met you."

He grinned, settling back in his seat and closing his eyes. The next stop was coming up and from there it would be easy to catch the return train to Toulouse. He had a wolf to catch.


End file.
